ThicreanPhoenix

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About ThicreanPhoenix

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Interests
    Drawing
    Singing/Performing
  • Location
    Around

Previous Fields

  • Favorite Fire Emblem Game
    Sacred Stones

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  • Members
    Owain
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Allegiance

  • I fight for...
    Ylisse
  1. Sicon watched as the archer fired one last shot and ducked away. He started to give chase, but he was gone before too long. "Damn..." However, Sicon didn't have much time to beat himself up about it. A recognizable voice rang out ahead. It was the Captain, demanding a report. Sicon instinctively jogged up to the brigade and saluted. "Eastern Ridge clear, Captain. Three assailants. Two dead. One escaped." Sicon stood at attention, waiting for a response. He had to wonder about the other person the Captain, called, though. Was someone else supposed to be here with him?...
  2. Sicon stood up straight, snapping his javelin back on his belt. His other lance, however, he pointed at the archer, whom he could see from his mountain perch. No doubt they could see him too. "That makes two down, arrow boy! Do you still value your life, or shall I make that three? If the former, drop your weapon. If the latter...make peace with whatever god you worship before I send you off to meet them."
  3. Eric listened intently to the rich-looking man's response. He would start to open his mouth to speak after each sentence, but was always preempted by the next one. At the end, however...he had mixed feelings. He was talking to not only someone of higher station than himself, but someone from the country his own invaded. He was fearful...grateful...he almost would have been offended, if this...Baron Esclabor didn't have a point about Deira's actions. "H-hey, I'm not a fan of what Deira is up to, either." Eric finally spoke, trying to walk alongside his prospective assistance, "Kind of the reason me and Accolon are here in the first place. We got sick of what they were doing and...left. They, uh, didn't take too kindly to our exit. Hence the...needing a healer bit." His heart sank into his stomach thinking of compensation. How could he tell this man he didn't have anything to offer without getting him to leave? Well, he didn't have NOTHING. There was the sword on his belt and the clothes on his back...He'd deal with that when the time came. For now, the best he could do was get the assistance he needed. The mention of guards put another sinking feeling in Eric's stomach. Not only did they exist, but he had left Accolon with both a complete stranger and a wyvern whose last feeding time was unknown to him...Unil had been Accolon's responsibility. He started walking a little faster, with a little more of earlier's panic in his step. He still took care not to walk too far ahead, though.
  4. The spear had landed. The pesky swordsman collapsed, and hopefully would not be standing back up anytime soon. The spear, as due its...qualities, reappeared in Sicon's grip. Sicon was almost proud, but out of the bushes came the one who had attacked him and started this mess. Unable to parry or escape, he found himself stinging. He made sure to return the favor, though. "Ha! Better luck next time...if you can last until then!" He taunted, evading the second strike. "And you might have to pray you do!" Sicon continued as he seamlessly drew his old, less cumbersome, weapon and brought down the axe. The metaphorical axe, at any rate. In truth, Sicon prayed himself for a split-second that his strike landed...he wouldn't last much longer if it didn't. Equip Slim Lance, attack Thief.
  5. Eric ran down the street, calling for aid. Yet, for some reason, no one was responding. Reacting, sure. But not in the way he wanted. Everyone was turning away, with contemptual gazes and hushed voices. How could they? Eric stopped in his tracks. "Please! Anybody! There is a person over there! Dying! And you're all just gonna let it happen?! What the hell is wrong with-" Eric was cut off with the name of his birth country. Which would make the second time in under five minutes, Eric noted. He turned around to see a rich-looking man and a much scruffier-looking one. The rich-looking one continued to speak. He didn't like the disdain in the man's voice, but at least he was-Fool? Lunatic?! Why you pompous little-Eric cut off his own train of thought. Mouthing off to higher-ranking people was part of what got him here in the first place. He wasn't about to dig himself an even deeper hole. So instead, he responded as unoffensively as he could. "I myself am not in any real trouble...uh..." Eric paused briefly. He didn't know the proper way to address this man. Ugh. Just wing it. "...you...but my friend is. We landed over that way,"-At this, Eric, without looking, pointed in the direction from which he'd run-"And...it's bad. I don't know what's hurt. But if I don't get someone to help...I don't think Accolon's gonna make it. Now, please, if you don't know how to aid wounds, can you help me find someone who can?" The entire time he spoke, Eric's eyes darted from place to place. They generally came back to his feet, and not once did he actually look this man in the eye. It was an old habit. Eye contact had always been...awkward.
  6. Sicon had once again struck the swordsman, but not without consequenses. He failed to parry the next strike. And with that, the man began to run. Probably to gain some distance and patch his wounds before coming back for another round. That will not do, Sicon thought. I can hardly take him at full strength! A second wind would be...deadly. But at the same time, the soldier was unwilling to surrender his high ground. Fortunately, though, he didn't have to. Equip Javelin, attack Mercenary
  7. "Gyaah!" Sicon had taken an advantageous vantage point, but still that swordsman was...ugh! He wasn't going down quickly. Another arrow came and missed. No matter. Hopefully a third would just miss too. But with his current lance out, Sicon couldn't strike back at the archer without exposing himself. He considered the javelin strapped to him for a moment...but no. He couldn't move very quickly using it, and he could always strike back later. But what he could do..."Hyaaaargh!" Attack Mercenary, hope that Hunter misses again.
  8. I THOUGHT I TURNED THE DAMN THING OFF BUT I DIDN'T APPARENTLY But in all seriousness, Mountains SHOULD provide better cover than the woods. And I know I can't take a hit from all three of these guys.
  9. AUTOCORRECT
  10. Sicon had stopped for a breather amidst a few trees. They provided cover and something sturdy to lean on. Marching is tiresome. But no sooner had he glanced at, and ignored, the burglar-looking-guy than a rustling of leaves alerted him to a more threatening presence. A more official-looking swordsman charged. Sicon sidestepped and responded with a quick poke. Orders were unless civilians were endangered, but basic protocol says if you are attacked, fight back. He looked back at the thiefy guy, only to see him swing a blade too! Sicon sidestepped again, responding in kind with a good thrust, and immediately after this happened, a loud thunk left an arrow in a nearby tree. That was close...Ugh, I could use better cover. Maybe a vantage point higher up...Damn. Sicon resolved that the best way to resolve this was to take them all down. One...by...one. "I wasn't going to attack before, but you've forced my hand!" Sicon to Q9, Attack Hunter. If this is not doable, stay put and attack Thief.
  11. Staying IN CHARACTER
  12. Finally, the tree toppled over, providing a very convenient bridge. Sicon balanced his way across it and continued to march forward, keeping his orders in mind. The man next to him didn't look like the type to attack civilians. No, he seemed more of a burglar. But burglars were not what Sicon was here to stop. Sicon to P10
  13. The tree started to bend. Huh...the tree's more resilient than I thought, Sicon thought. But no sooner had he thought this than he shrugged it off and readied his lance again. "Heh...well, if at first you don't succeed!..." Attack snag...again.
  14. Eric started to pace, muttering to himself. It was impossible to make out what it was; not only was he mumbling, but his hand was in his mouth, nails being chewed on. He didn't know what to do. He needed help, obviously, but where was he gonna get it? With the pair's nationality, they would be lucky if they weren't arrested on the spot. However, Eric stopped when he heard a faint cough. Eric stooped down to hear what his dear friend had to say. He was shocked. Accolon was acting...like he was going to die. "No. No, no, nonononononono. NO." Eric snapped back, trying to hold back the doubt in his voice, "Do not, I repeat, do NOT talk like that. This is not going to be one of THOSE stories. You are going to get up and walk away from here. Just...just hold on." Eric stood up and frantically looked around..for anyone. And then he saw...the man who had approached them. With the fear of losing his only companion in so long clear in his voice and expression, he looked the man dead in the eye and uttered a single, quiet word... "Help." Eric didn't wait long for a response. There wasn't enough time. He paused for five seconds, then, without thinking, ran as fast as he could carry himself into the city streets, desperately begging and calling as loud as he could for someone to come and help his dying friend. Hopefully someone would look past his golden coat...Someone had to.
  15. Today looked grim. That was all Eric could think as he woke up and set off with Accolon and his wyvern, Unil, just like he had done for the past...well, he couldn't remember. The two had been running for days, every one of which just as dangerous. Every sky just as foreboding. Every wound just as fatal. So he couldn't help but feel skeptical as he and his compatriot approached Raewald. No doubt they wouldn't take kindly to Deirans in full armor. But still, it was better than the situation behind them...no way anyone would take them back after their little stunt. Eric didn't know whether or not they were still being hunted, or even if they were being hunted in the first place. He assumed so; a few arrows had come their way while they made their...escape. He hadn't the time to look back and check whether there were more. He could always hope not, but a subtle paranoia never refused to erase the idea. However, the thought seemed to leave his mind as a city started to come into view. Finally, civilization! he thought, dreaming of how all the pain suffered over these weeks would be forgotten as they settled into a new place...until all those thoughts were dashed away when Unil let out a cry and stopped flying. Then came the descent. Eric didn't know how to fly. All he could do was shout at the exhausted wyvern and hope for the best...Or, more accurately, brace for the worst. And the worst came, in the form of the ground. He was tossed to the ground and landed with a thud. He opened his eyes not seconds later to see his friend, arm extended, gasping out a few words that were barely audible over Eric's ringing ears. However, Eric understood the shakiness. The pain in his tone. Crap, it must've been...well, he didn't know. Could be old wounds reopening, could be...were they shot down? But it was something. Something that wasn't getting thrown off a wyvern. "Doesn't matter what passage we've been given if you can't walk through it!" Eric shouted at his friend, who really didn't deserve to be shouted at, "Now get up so we can get you to a healer or...something!" Staggering to his feet, Eric tried to get Accolon off the ground. No point. In full plate, he was too heavy. And just to make matters worse...here came some...whoever the hell this guy was, saying something about this not being Deira. "He's HURT, that's what's happening! And I'm well aware, thank you very much! Now WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!" Eric yelled, going into full-blown panic mode.